CHANGING HISTORY
by ahbluhbluh
Summary: Hermione finds out that she's adopted. The Light Side loses the war and it's up to her to go back in time and destroy Lord Voldemort before he comes into existence. My first fic


**CHANGING HISTORY**

DISCLAIMER: The fact that I have to write a disclaimer says it all.

A/N: This is my first fanfic so please read and review. Thanks :D

Chapter One: Lost Hope

Hermione Jean Granger was crumpled on the floor of the Head's office. Her body convulsed with sobs and a million emotions ripped through her war-beaten body. The large portrait of Albus Dumbledore looked down at her, a grim expression on his face. Sadness and grief filtered dully through his half-moon glasses as he waited for her to calm.

As the minutes dragged along, the ex-headmaster cleared his throat apologetically. She looked up, her face red and blotchy, her eyes swollen, and tear marks staining her cheeks.

"Miss Granger? Our time is running out. I can understand what you must be going through…"

He never got a chance to finish. Hermione stood up and glared towards his portrait.

"NO YOU OLD FOOL! You do _not_ understand _anything_! First, my parents tell me my whole life is a lie, then Death Eaters come in and murder them!" She let out a sob, finding it difficult to hold back.

"The bloody -hic- war has -hic- ruined my -hic- life!" Hermione looked deranged, her school robes ripped and her hair a tangled mess.

"Mum's gone…Dad's gone…Harry…Ron…the Weasleys, Lovegoods, Patils, Longbottoms…EVERYONE I CARED ABOUT!" With that, she dropped to the floor and broke down again.

**~FLASHBACK~**

It was two months after her 16th birthday and Hermione was sitting in her Muggle bedroom, reminiscing the good old days before the war. She smiled sadly as she recalled the days when the worst thing that could happen was a 5-foot Potions essay on the uses of unicorn hair.

A light knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," called Hermione. Her mother came in, followed by her father, both looking extremely nervous.

"Mum, Dad, what's up? Sit down. Is something wrong?" Hermione suddenly felt anxious for some reason that she could not comprehend.

Her mother, Jean Granger, stole her glance at her husband before taking a deep breath.

"Hermione dear, before we tell you anything, we need you to know that we love you very, very much."

"… What's going on?" the teenage witch asked suspiciously. Her mother remained silent, trying to calm herself.

"Well," began Richard, "what your mother is trying to say is that…" He hesitated and looked deep into Hermione's big soulful brown eyes.

"You're adopted!" cried her mother, quickly looking at the floor.

Hermione blinked and shook her head in disbelief. She stood and glared at her parents.

"No. NO. **NO!**" she screamed. "It can't be! I - I mean how? Why did you only tell me now? Who are my real parents? Are they alive? ANSWER ME GODDAMMIT!"

Hermione was screeching wildly, and her parents looked distinctly overwhelmed.

"Please, darling, just listen to us," begged her mother. Hermione sighed and sat by her parents.

"Tell me who my parents are," she pleaded.

"First of all," started Richard, "Your real name is Delphine, and you were born into a wealthy pureblood family. They had no choice but to put you into an orphanage when you were just 3 months old; the Dark Lord would've had you killed otherwise."

It took a while for her father's words to sink in.

"What is my last name?" she asked.

"Your full name is Delphine M-"

BOOM! A loud explosion was heard downstairs. Jean shrieked and grabbed onto her husband. Heavy footfalls indicated that a group of men (or rather large women) were storming up the stairs.

They burst through the door and immediately shot two jets of green light at the muggles huddling defenceless on the bed.

Hermione recognised the men straight away. They wore midnight black robes, black cloaks with the hood up and silver masks similar to skulls. She whipped her wand out of her holster and began to duel.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Furnunculus!"

"Stupefy!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Reducto!"

"Crucio!"

"Protego!"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

She ducked yet another Killing Curse and grabbed the first thing she could: a blue ballpoint pen. She pointed her wand at it and whispered _portus_ and activated the Portkey with a wave of her wand and felt an unnatural tug behind her navel as it transported her to 12 Grimmauld Place.

**~END FLASHBACK~**

The Death Eaters had begun raiding innocent Muggle suburbs just for the fun of torturing, raping, and killing them. Hermione and her parents were just one of the hundreds of people attacked; Hermione being the sole survivor due to her magical abilities.

After she had taken the portkey to Grimmauld Place, she was met by her best friends Ronald Weasley with his shock of red hair and brilliant blue eyes, and Harry Potter of the jet black hair and lightning scar.

She was just able to tell them about the attack before being ushered up to bed with reassurances that everything would be fine. She didn't tell the boys about her being adopted; it was unnecessary.

That was a lie. Her life steadily got worse and worse. Each day, Hermione (now Delphine) wondered about her family. She knew nothing about them, besides the fact that their surname started with the letter 'M'. She knew plenty of pureblood families starting with 'M': the Malfoys, Michaels, McKinnons, Monterreys…

Hermione, Ron and Harry lost hope of every finding all of Voldemort's Horcruxes. They'd found three, but knew there were at least four more.

Days went on by, leading up to the Final Battle at Hogwarts. Hermione had hope for the Light Side, but deep down, she knew it was a futile attempt.

One by one, she saw her friends and allies drop. First Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Colin Creevey, Parvati Patil, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown and countless others. Any hope she had left was ripped cruelly away as Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived dropped, victim of a killing curse from Lord Voldemort himself.

Hermione could take no more. She sprinted blindly through the damaged castle that was once her home, but was now cold and forbidding.

Before she knew it, she was at the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle guarding the door was gone, knocked aside by a powerful _reducto_. She fell to the floor and let the built up despair flood out as warm salty tears.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore called urgently. "Hermione!" he half-yelled.

"Yessir?" she whispered, her large eyes doelike.

"We still have hope left," the painting told her.

"No there isn't. Harry's gone. Voldemort's won, Professor and I can't change that!"

"When did you become so negative Miss Granger? Of course you can change it. You have the power to change history!" he exclaimed.

Hermione just stared up at him.

"Sir, you have officially lost it."

She had expected anger, or resentment. What she did _not_ expect however, was amusement glinting in the pale blue eyes.

"Hermione, do you remember what you used in your third year to get to all your extra classes?"

"I do Professor, but what does the Time Turner have to do with anything?"

"My dear girl, you have let your sadness muffle your thinking ability. Clear your mind. Think about it."

With that, Dumbledore smiled at the confused girl and promptly walked out of his frame, leaving her to stare at the purple chair painted in the background of his portrait.

"_With the Time Turner, I can go back in time," _she thought. _"But what can I do to change the future?"_ Hermione knew the answer as soon as she thought of the question.

She would simply go back 50 years to when Voldemort was still Tom Riddle and stop him from turning dark.

Hermione searched through each of Dumbledore's many drawers, most of which contained candy like Lemon Drops and Chocolate Frogs.

In the last drawer she discovered a tiny hourglass hanging off a long golden chain. She walked out of the office and began to spin the hourglass. _One … two … three … forty-eight … forty –nine … fifty._

Smoky scenes surrounded her: students going to class, teachers and prefects patrolling the corridor, ghosts floating around.

After two minutes of the spinning scenes, Hermione fell to the ground with a pounding head. She had travelled through time many times, each time resulting in a minor headache.

This time, instead of travelling back a few hours, Hermione had travelled 50 years; the result being a head that felt like it was being ravished by hungry wolves.

"Unnh," she groaned and looked up from her spot – right into the grey eyes of none other than Tom Marvolo Riddle.

A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and feel free to tell me anything I need to change/improve on. REVIEW PLEASE, it would make my day.


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